


A Re-Evaluation of Sorts

by stillskies



Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillskies/pseuds/stillskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are not partners, not in the real sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Re-Evaluation of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quin/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! ♥ 
> 
> I'm not entirely sure if this is exactly what you had in mind. I love these characters and I enjoy exploring their motivations for things. So when I saw your prompt for supporting each other, I started to wonder what that would be like for two very independent people. 
> 
> That being said, I do hope that you enjoy this. ♥
> 
> Many thanks to [redacted] for the beta. Any and all mistakes are my own.

They have never been partners, not in the true sense. Seiichirou abandoned fieldwork shortly after his failed partnership with Tsuzuki, and Watari has always flitted about the division, part of it but never really _there_. It is only logical to pair them when the need arises, and though Watari jokes around, flinging his arm around Seiichirou's shoulders and whispering _partner_ like he knows a secret he's dying to share (not dying; they are already dead. It is alarming how often he forgets that when they are on assignment together), it only serves to remind Seiichirou of the distance they both have achieved from everyone around them.

(Not Tsuzuki, of course. Tsuzuki does not know the meaning of the world distance. He is always there, his presence a reminder of all of the things Seiichirou has failed at, never lurking far from the forefront of Seiichirou's thoughts.)

He is standing in the shadows, allowing Watari to take the lead. It is easier that way; Watari has a way with people, living and dead. They open up to him, allow him into their deepest thoughts. (He has never seen any of them divulge anything, but Watari is never wrong, always scarily accurate, as though the people they deal with are simply characters in a book that he has read.) Seiichirou does not know how to relate to anything other than pain, and their charge today is too young to know the depth of it. 

It is sad; the child is staring at them with wide eyes. He is not used to being seen, having spent so long alone in a crowd. Watari is talking in a low voice, smile in place. He says something and the boy laughs, and the sound is startling. 

"Shall we go?" Seiichirou asks, and Watari looks at the boy, who nods. 

*

"You all right, Tatsumi?" Watari asks later, when the boy is gone and the paperwork is done and it is just them in the office. He places a cup of tea – black, half spoon of sugar – in front of Seiichirou and sprawls in the chair reserved for visitors. 

It seems wrong; Watari isn't a visitor, not the way Tsuzuki is. Watari is a constant (headache, aggravation, companion), but the chair is not his. It is a chair whose purpose is to accommodate people who are there to ask for something, or be scolded. 

He must be tired if he is giving this much thought to a _chair_.

"I'm fine, Watari-san," he replies, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Watari doesn't say anything; Seiichirou takes the silence as it's meant – Watari doesn't believe him, but Watari never engages in arguments that truly mean anything. This fact is one of the reasons that they are able to do this, sit around and talk about nothing. He takes a sip of his tea, allowing the hot liquid to run through him and he begins to relax.

"That kid was young," Watari says a moment later. His voice is cautious, but firm, as though he knows that this is not something Seiichirou will desire to speak about and doesn't care.

He's breaking the rules. They do not talk about these things outside of the paperwork and the fine print and the signature page that states everything is accurate and complete. Once it is signed, the case is gone, the moment dead, and yet… Watari is watching him carefully, looking for some hint that Seiichirou does not understand.

"I'm surprised he slipped through the cracks as long as he did," Watari adds.

"Yes, well," Seiichirou stalls. He cannot think of anything to say, nothing that is not in the report and nothing that Watari doesn't already know. 

"You know," Watari says, and his voice is inside of Seiichirou's head, turning in circles, digging for something. "You didn't say much to him."

"I prefer to keep myself at a distance," he replies because it is true. He drops his gaze, staring into his rapidly cooling cup. Nothing good will come of becoming emotionally involved; he cannot change their fate. (Another failure, even if it is not his. A failure of the world.)

"Even so, sometimes people just need to know you're there."

Seiichirou looks up. Watari hasn't moved, but he feels closer, somehow. Almost as though he's standing right beside Seiichirou.

"They just want to know that they're not alone."

*

He spends the rest of the evening thinking about it. He is not alone, per se. He is surrounded by people, most of whom he cares about to some degree or other. And he is, if not completely then somewhat, cared for in return. (It still hurts to think about Tsuzuki. The passage of time does not heal all wounds, although it is slightly more tolerable now. Kurosaki will stay with him, has proven over and over again his reluctance to leave Tsuzuki's side. This grants him a margin of peace.) 

Silence is felt, he knows. It can be oppressive, but it can also be calming. He spent his entire life caring for others, taking care of things from the shadows; his presence was felt but never heard, never seen. It is a habit he has taken with him to this new life, and, in most cases, it has been an appropriate response. Seldom is a new soul desirous of speaking to the reaper of anything but second chances and redemption. 

It is not Seiichirou's job to judge; it is only his job, insomuch as it is his anymore, to retrieve.

He thinks of the boy when they found him, huddled in a corner and watching people pass by him with blank eyes. He still does not know how he could have reached out to this child, still believes that he did the most prudent thing by stepping aside and allowing Watari control of the situation. He remembers the boy laughing and knows he could never have provoked that response.

(He could never make Tsuzuki laugh; he could only make him cry.)

*

Watari is waiting for him in the morning, cup of tea in hand and grin in place. "I'll make my own, thank you," Seiichirou greets dryly. It is never wise to trust Watari when he is playing harmless; such mistakes often lead to becoming a younger version of yourself, growing tentacles for hands or some other bizarre side-effect that Watari will likely only cure when he deigns it appropriate. 

"You wound me, Tatsumi," Watari says cheerfully, taking a sip of the tea before holding it back out. "See? Nothing wrong with it, except for the bitter aftertaste. You really should use more sugar."

Seiichirou takes the cup and shakes his head. "I prefer it this way, thank you." He takes a sip and tries to remember when it was that Watari started making his tea for him, how he knows exactly how much sugar to put in. He can't remember. (Tsuzuki never could figure it out. He always made it too bitter or too sweet.)

*

Months pass without disruption. (Well, major disruption; Seiichirou has resigned himself to the periodic lab explosions – Watari – and the property damage – Tsuzuki – as par for the course.) He has gotten the budget down to an art: there are two of them. One is sent out to the department and is always in the red. Then there is the one that is sent off to the finance department, always in the black. It takes some creative accounting in order to make sure that they never truly go over budget, despite what he tells Tsuzuki and Watari each month. 

(His secret is deleting a row from the office budget. He has labeled it as 'Tsuzuki and Watari' and, each month, approximates how much in damages they will do. He immediately deducts that from the monthly budget.)

There is a knock at the door and he looks up to see Watari leaning in the doorway. "Got a minute?" he asks, serious, and Seiichirou frowns, motioning Watari in. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" Seiichirou asks. 

Watari doesn't say anything for a moment, just sits in his chair (Seiichirou appropriated one of the rolling chairs from an empty cubicle. When Watari had first seen it, he had said it was because it was more comfortable than the cheap leather one already in place. The only one who uses the rolling chair is Watari, however; Seiichirou keeps it in the corner, out of sight). 

"Do you ever want a partner?" Watari questions, finally.

The question startles him; it's not something he gives much thought to. "I'm rarely assigned fieldwork, Watari-san," he replies. "There is no need for me to have a partner; it would be a waste of company resources."

"Not a work partner, Tatsumi. An _actual_ partner." Watari is agitated, and if Seiichirou looks carefully, he can see that Watari's eyes have become slits. "Like what Tsuzuki and Bon are, or Wakaba-chan and Terazuma."

He's not sure how that's different from work partners and he says so; Watari shakes his head. "Do you remember Tsuzuki's last partner? Before Bon?"

"No," he says, because he doesn't. Tsuzuki has gone through more partners in the time Seiichirou has been here than Seiichirou can keep track of. 

"Exactly." He pauses and shakes his head. "Bon has outlasted every partner Tsuzuki has ever had. Why?" Seiichirou stays quiet. It's a question he's asked himself over and over again, but he has yet to find a satisfactory answer. "They understand each other. It's why they work."

He supposes that is as good an answer as any. Kurosaki, despite his brash exterior, is able to keep up with Tsuzuki in a way no one has before. He is _there_ for Tsuzuki, which is what Tsuzuki needs. 

"I fail to see how this relates to me," Seiichirou says slowly.

"Be my partner," Watari replies. "We've been working together on and off for years, Tatsumi."

"What brought this on, Watari-san?"

Watari looks at him. "It's something I've been thinking about since that last assignment. Everyone needs someone to know that they're there. Even me. Even you." There is something odd about the way that Watari is watching him, so earnest, so out of character, but Seiichirou supposes that he knows very little outside of the mad scientist persona Watari has adapted.

(When Watari first came to them, he was serious. The seriousness melted into this carefree persona, but Seiichirou cannot say when that happened or why. It surprises him that he wants to find out.)

Neither of them says anything, but Watari continues to watch him, and Seiichirou thinks. Having an assigned partner would not change anything, not really, but that is not what Watari is asking. He has been alone with his thoughts for so long that it is difficult to contemplate laying them out for someone else, even bit by bit. It would take time, but then, time is not something they lack.

"This will not grant you more funding," he warns slowly. It takes a second before Watari is grinning at him. "I mean it, Watari-san. You still need to pay for the wall you took out last Tuesday."

"I know," Watari says, standing. He's opening the door when he pauses and turns around. "Did you want to have dinner tonight?"

Seiichirou is skeptical. "Are you planning on cooking?"

"Of course."

"Then no." 

*

It is awkward at first, being partners. They will never be Tsuzuki and Kurosaki (Watari is placing bets in the office in regards to the true nature of their relationship. Seiichirou has decided it's not worth the energy to stop him), but that is not what they are aiming to be. He's not sure what will happen, but for now he accepts food and drink from Watari without question, and Watari picks his brain about whatever comes to mind. 

Nothing too personal, although if the conversation leads there, Seiichirou does not immediately close down. It's a step, he supposes, and Watari does not complain.

It will take time, but maybe, just maybe, they'll get there.


End file.
